


rimming

by intoxicated_by_our_lies, klismaphilia



Series: The Mafia (ie the fuck ups) [3]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Caretaking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, French Kissing, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Naked Cuddling, Neck Kissing, No Shit on Dick or Tongue, Oral Sex, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sweet/Hot, Tongue-in-cheek, we need to write more of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicated_by_our_lies/pseuds/intoxicated_by_our_lies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/klismaphilia/pseuds/klismaphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s all he can do not to go completely limp in the Arsonist’s grasp, because he feels so weak and so fragile and so useless, so easily burned like paper turned to ash, and he can hardly choke out anything aside from, “Please.” And it’s such a useless little whimpered syllable that it only makes him ache more, sets off an unearthly pounding against the inside of his chest, like his heart is threatening to burst…" [Town of Salem: Disgusier/Arsonist]</p>
            </blockquote>





	rimming

It was tearing him apart, the sunlight that streamed through windows and bounced off white paint and reflects around the tiny room with such an intense brightness it threatens to rip him apart. The only thing he can feel is a sick light against his working eye and an even worse pain beneath his bandages, almost too deep to overcome, the wounds so goddamn disgusting he can hardly fathom what they look like, but he can practically feel infection seeping from his skin…

He's lying there alone and clutching to the pillow underneath his head and shutting his eyes until tears bubble up in the one that still works and burn as they spill over. He's clutching to the bed so tightly and hiding his bandaged face and burying it into the pillow with godawful sobs escaping from his parted lips… and then his burned fingers are twitching and he's reaching up to pull the blinds closed with the hand that still works and is curling in on himself with a cry.

It seems like everything is in shambles and all he has to live for is fucking darkness and Grey and even if it's something, he's still so useless and it's breaking him so deeply he can't pull the pieces together again. He misses caring, but maybe he cares too much, and he's looking at the covered mirror with a strangled gasp and barely thinking…

Somewhere in the back of his mind he can hear a door opening- but he can't focus. Not on anything but himself, how fragile he was, how fucking worthless, as he rolled out of bed and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

* * *

Grey’s fingers are barely able to grip the doorknob, his body pushing against the door. He wanted the door to just open up, for the lock on the door to break so he could completely see him. Why did he leave it on? It’d be so much easier for him to just take it off so when Amauri went into his moods. “Amauri- what are you..? Please, open the door.”

Once he’s finally able to open the door, he immediately threw himself onto the ground and wrapped his arms around the younger man. “Babe-” he pulled his body closer to his, arms locking into his. “You-you’re okay, I’m here..”  
  


Light, quick kisses trailed up and down his neck, his cheeks, and then ended at his ears, biting softly at the ear lobe. His breath hurried, coming out as quick pants as he could only think of things to say to him. He looked so distraught, completely traumatised and panicked about his appearance- he didn’t understand why though. Amauri was probably the most beautiful human being he ever saw, almost assuredly beautiful compared to what he, Amauri, thought about himself.

He knew he hated himself, every little bit of his burnt flesh and told him daily how much he wanted to hide it all away. But as his fingers caressed his skin, unsmoothed and rough to touch, he couldn’t help but kiss his neck and shoulders.

Rocking back and forth, he could only whisper out his name and light shushing.

He couldn’t… couldn’t think, not when everything was so vivid and yet so distant, when the world felt like it was ending and he was choking on air and all there is is Grey, Grey, Grey, everywhere and nowhere all at once. He can hardly focus on the kisses being pressed against his cheeks- marred and scarred and rough beyond capacity to feel- and the ones on the burned flesh of his neck, the black and red lesions through the skin that he couldn’t even bear to think of.

It’s all he can do not to go completely limp in the Arsonist’s grasp, because he feels so weak and so fragile and so useless, so easily burned like paper turned to ash, and he can hardly choke out anything aside from, “Please.” And it’s such a useless little whimpered syllable that it only makes him ache more, sets off an unearthly pounding against the inside of his chest, like his heart is threatening to burst…

He looks up, tries to focus his vision, but everything hurts and his head's still spinning and he can barely concentrate on anything. He thinks he can hear Grey whispering his name, pressing it into his ear as he curls around him, but even then, it’s nearly impossible to keep himself up. He’s a mess and he knows how much of a mess he is, so goddamn stupid, and there’s nothing he can do to fix it. He thinks of how much he wants to pull the concealer over his hideously scarred skin and change into clothes that flatter his frame and just live in someone else’s skin, but he’s not the Disguiser anymore, he’s just Amauri, and that’s more fucked up than anything else he can think of.

He wraps his arms around Grey, entwining them behind his back and just lying there, clinging to the other so desperately he thinks he could mould into the other’s skin if he tried. Because it’s ironic, an Arsonist and a burn victim, but the fire was all consuming and it was the only thing he had that mattered anymore… Because without Grey, he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that was worse than being useless.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into his ear. His tongue barely touching his ear, saliva leaking from it as he traced a single scar on the side of his ear. Shifting Amauri’s body so that he’s sitting with his face to his chest, he cupped his face. “Please- talk to me.”

“I need you.”

He looked over his body, his free hand lightly touching his skin as brought him closer to his body. Leaning forward, he kissed his lips and then his chin. “You’re so beautiful, Amauri.. please- please, believe me.”

He wants to believe him, he does, he just doesn’t know if he can- because he doesn’t understand what the hell Grey’s talking about, isn’t even sure what the word ‘beautiful’ means anymore- he knows that it was something he’d craved, before. Beauty. In any way- whether he was handsome or androgynous or even uniquely regal, it was what his world had revolved around. But he’d practically drowned himself in makeup and wax, and there wasn’t a chance he could ever return to that.

When he feels the Arsonist’s lips on his again, it’s all he can do not to immediately tense up and pull away- but he’s already shaking in Grey’s arms, already trying desperately not to let the tears keep leaking from his eye and- where the hell did his bandages go? Why was he so… exposed? He felt bare, too much so, and it was enough that he trembled, trying to press himself closer to Grey as he buries his face in the other’s neck.

“I love you,” he chokes out, trying to keep tears back in his eyes, trying not to move suddenly because he’s too afraid it’s all a facade that’s going to shatter the second he shifts. But Grey is there, so impossibly real, and the Disguiser isn’t sure exactly what makes it seem like he actually does care, but he doesn’t want him to leave- not now, because he needs him, and he’s so desperate for someone to love him that he just…

He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows that Grey wouldn’t lie to him, not about this, and so he just says, “You make me feel beautiful.” Because it’s true, in its own way- the Arsonist is the only one who can make him feel beautiful, the only one who matters. And if he was important to him, then… he had to believe it, he had to stick around, couldn’t just end everything like he so horribly wanted to at times… because there was a chance someone loved him.

There was a chance someone saw him.

“Do y-you see me?” He manages to gasp, fingers curling in Grey’s shirt. “I want you.”

He doesn’t take a second to let his words sink in- instead, Grey crashes his lips against his. His tongue forcing his lips open, nibbling on his bottom lip, and penetrating the walls of his inner cheeks.

Fuck- he didn’t need to think about anything. He wanted to feel beautiful, and this was the best- only- way that Amauri would believe him. All that he wanted was for him to truly see how beautiful. Every little bit of his skin, scarred or pure, he couldn’t imagine loving anything else. Nothing about him was ugly.

He looked like he was sculpted by a god, made from the finest of clays and sculpted with love.

“You’re beautiful,” he breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as he worked the buckle of Amauri’s pants. “You’re beyond beautiful- I love you so much, fuck, I need you.”

He can’t keep the gasp of surprise back when he feels the other’s hands working away his pants from his hips, down thighs that were covered in numerous scars, almost making him let loose another whimper of discomfort as he looked up at Grey, his good eye practically brimming with tears before he pulled away, swallowed it down. He doesn’t know, doesn’t have a clue what to say or what to feel, but there’s that goddamn ache in his chest, almost a pang of longing…

He’s reaching up and wrapping his hand around the back of the Arsonist’s neck and pulling him down until their lips can meet again, until he can open his mouth and push back and tease with his tongue, because he wasn’t sure that he needed this, but fuck if he doesn’t want it-

And then there are hands curving around his thighs and holding them so steadily he can feel his heart speeding up against his ribcage. He’s slipping hands beneath Grey’s shirt and pulling it loose, over the Arsonist’s head and letting it fall to the floor before their lips are against each other once more and he’s groaning and gasping for breath and pulling him closer so he can wrap his legs around the other’s waist and hands around his back as he forces himself closer.

And maybe Grey’s lying- maybe he doesn’t actually think that Amauri’s beautiful, but he wants to believe it, and he wants to feel it, and just know, so he just arches against him and slips his fingers around the waistband of the other’s pants and slides his fingers against sharp hips and relishes the gasp he earns-

“Fuc-” he moans, feeling the ice cold fingers across his ribs and hips.

Grey’s hands trailed down the other’s back, his fingers tracing his poked out spine, and once he gets to his lower back, he begins sliding off the smaller man’s boxers. Tossing them to the side, he looks back up at him. He smiled, heart pumping, he kissed the lower bit of his jaw and made his way down his neck and chest. His hands pushing his legs apart, stroking his inner thighs.

Pushing Amauri’s body onto the floor underneath him, his lips trailed down his chest, tongue and teeth pinching at his skin. His hands continue to wander, caressing the soft bits of his skin. Once he finally gets to the lower end of his stomach, he looks back up.

Do you want me to?

He doesn’t know what he wants, because it’s all happening far too quickly for him to make anything of it, but Grey’s fingers are tracing over his skin, baring him, spreading his legs apart and he’s trembling, but nonetheless he winds fingers into the other’s hair. He pulls him closer, feels Grey’s lips pressing to the inside of his thighs, biting gently down on the exposed flesh before the other is looking up at him, and all he can think to do is give a nod.

It’s more frantic than he would have thought, but no different than he wants, pulling the Arsonist closer still, surprisingly vulnerable in a way he’s never been with anybody else, and yet he can’t bring himself to care quite that much. He’s trying to press closer, his hips bucking upwards as he meets eyes with the other and lets a low moan escape from his lips as he can feel kisses being pressed to the soft skin of his stomach, to the base of his cock.

He almost wants to cry out because it’s too much pressure, too much contact, something he’s not used to when he’s not in costume, but he just tilts his head back to expose his throat and lets those hands work over his skin wordlessly.

Amauri’s fingers pull back his hair, almost begging him to stop, but the harder he pulls, the faster he runs his tongue down the base of his cock. His nails scratched at his thighs, the palm of his hands gripping harshly as tries to bring his crotch closer-

He moans, forcing himself to stop from biting down. His tongue circles the top of his cock, before he opens his lips and letting himself bob his head up and down. He could hear Amauri moaning, stuttering out his name in pleasure as he does this. Grey only went faster as he said his name, his throat purring.

He couldn’t help but want to smile, looking up in Amauri’s eyes- wet, large, and filled with an emotion he wasn’t able to put down. His fingers tremble as they stroke the Disguiser’s stomach, the tips of them tracing the outline of his ribs. Shifting his body to move over his body more, he reaches his arm up to his neck, squeezing softly.

He couldn't help it- the frustrating moans that seemed to be passing his lips almost endlessly, far too turned on for his own good and yet almost impossibly bothered- why was he doing this, touching him, making things so intimate when there was nothing for him to touch but scarred and burned flesh?

But the moment he hears the word beautiful slip off Grey's lips, he's bucking his hips and curling long fingers into the other's light locks and tugging, fingers teasing the side of his face as he pulls one arm back and muffled a moan into it. He's arching, back curving as he shut his eyes and bites down on his lip and tries not to say everything he wants to-!

But then he's tensing and his thighs are trembling, pressing against the other's head as he tries to pull the Arsonist up. He's gasping and then it's spilling free, “Please, please, more, I n-need to feel you, God please, I want you to have everything-”

He doesn’t know how ridiculous, how desperate it sounds, but it sets off a beating in his heart, practically pounding against his ribcage as he tugs Grey closer, seals their lips together and presses his hands up against slim shoulders, thumbs digging into the edge of the other’s collarbone, so much nicer than his own, not… flawed. He felt filthy, hideous, completely disrobed in front of the one person who actually mattered- but he swallowed it down, barely moving aside from letting his thighs fall to the side even further so Grey could settle between them, could look down at him and listen to him whisper it again.

“Take everything. Everything a-and more. Use me.”

“Amauri..” he whispers his name, straining his body so that he could kiss his lips over and over again and take short breaths as he smiles. “I love you- fuck, I love you so much.”

“T-turn,” he grabs hands, squeezing it, “turn around.”

Leaning back up to his body, he wraps his hand around his head, bringing it back up to his lips as he pulls Amauri up onto his knees. He could feel himself melting against him, his body feeling almost perfect against his- like he completed the remaining part of Amauri’s body. Everything feels perfect.

Grey moved down his neck, sucking on the crook on his neck. “You’re so perfect, darling.. beyond perfect.”

He doesn’t know how to say it back- how much he loves him, how much he needs him, and he doesn’t know if he could express himself through words if he tried. Not with the way he’s tensing up and rolling his hips back and pressing his face into the floor, shutting his eyes as if he could tune out his own neediness, his… sudden vulnerability.

But it’s too much, the Arsonist’s lips on his neck, sucking and nipping and biting, digging teeth in until he can feel the skin start to distort, imagine how it’ll bruise. He’s tearing into the flesh where everything’s been burned  and Amauri’s tilting his head to the side and letting a sharp moan escape from his throat, his body practically writhing, toes curling. He’s such a mess it’s almost unbelievable, when he’s always been so composed- so wild in every way that mattered, but nothing like this-

He’s biting down on his lip and trying not to gasp immediately as the first finger is pushed into him- and he doesn’t know what… is that concealer? makes it so goddamn good, because he’s never really fucked anyone, at least not in his own skin, not when he wasn’t dressed up like that pretty Sheriff or Don Juan Doctor, but it’s enough to be feeling him, enough that he lets out a gasp and a whimper, and finally a moan as more fingers are pressed in.

He’s trying to keep still, trying to keep quiet, but he’s giving up all composure when those fingers curl, and he can’t keep himself from letting out a sharp cry, trying to turn his face away, to hide it again, but he can feel Grey’s hand around his neck and he’s gasping out pleas, begging and almost entirely red. He’s trying to reach out for something- anything- as Grey digs nails into his thighs, spreads his legs apart again, and he’s struggling to grasp the other’s hand, digging teeth into his other wrist as if it could somehow help...

Amauri’s screams, his begging- it turned him on so much. Those soft, weak little whimpers for him to keep going.

“Ama-Amauri, say- say my name-” he moves his lips down his spine, almost growling as he leaves the slightest markings of hickies along it, his fingers scratching and tearing his back as he did so. Grey moved his hand around the inner part of his thigh, pulling at his cock in an eccentric manner.

He moaned, resting his forehead on his lower backside. “Say my name- please.”

He can barely stammer it out, and even then all he can force loose is a “G-G-” as the Arsonist rests his head against the small of his back, before he can feel his mouth moving lower still, pressing against his hot flesh, sucking at the skin before finally settling- And then he feels it, and he can’t help letting out a whine, low and long, trying to move, trying to- to feel more, because it wasn’t enough, his tongue just barely pressing in, teasing the corners of his stretched entrance without a word-

And then he’s saying it again- “Say my name”- and Amauri can’t help gasping out, breathlessly, “Grey,” before the other’s tongue is sliding into him, pushing past his tight ring of muscle and mouthing at his walls, dipping in further, flicking, pulling back. He’s sucking, kissing the skin of his ass so delicately it’s almost unbelievable, and Amauri can hardly think to do anything when he feels Grey’s tongue slide back into him and lick and pull, trying to draw out every noise the Disguiser had left in him-

He can hardly stand it, being so… so goddamn needy, with the way he was pushing in and out and eating his fucking ass, so good he forgets all the thoughts he’d had before, replaced only with, “Yes, fuck, yes, Grey, please- oh God, so fuckin’ good, I need- w-want more, please, oh fuck, I feel so wet-”

He’s panting, his breath coming out in short spurts as his thighs tremble, shaking too much at the sensation, at being so utterly violated it’s gotta be illegal-

Grey was barely able to continue going as he could feel the Disguiser trembling, moaning his name as he his tongue swabbed the inside of his entrance. His own breath being short, having to stop himself from moaning and choking on the lack of breath he has forced his tongue deeper into him. And when he did, he wiped his tongue with his fingers and continued- using his free hand to spread his legs apart more.

His other hand, on the other hand, continued to stroke and massage his cock. Amauri’s cock soused with cum, still erected. Releasing his fingers, he directed his hips towards his asshole. He straddled himself onto his hips, lightly thrusting. Grey’s moved his hands, grabbing his hips and moaning his name.

“Amauri- I love you,” he leans forwards, kissing his cheek.

He can't keep himself from tensing up the moment he feels the stretching, almost tearing ache of being pulled open, biting down on his wrist to hide a pathetic whimper. He's trembling and shaking and his hands are scrambling for something to hold onto as Grey pulls back-

And then he's arching, a scream leaving his mouth half comprised of both pain and pleasure, his body curving and thighs shaking as he tries to keep himself steady, but even then his knees are giving out from under him. He falls forward, still pressing back and moaning as he buries his heated face against the carpet and sucks in air.

But his leg is being pushed up again and he's crying out, louder, forcing himself back and rutting against the Arsonist's cock as he lets out awful, pitiful moans and curves his back at every thrust. He can feel the pressure in his gut, already far too aroused, on the verge of cumming as he pushes back against the other's dick and moans his name. He spreads his legs further, bites down on his tongue and muffles moans into his forearm, a white heat behind his eyelids as he tries not to let go, not so soon-

“Fuck-! I-I need- Grey! L-love you-” he chokes, breathlessly, unable to see or hear or do anything but gasp and cry out...

“Amauri-” he moans, throwing his head back as his knees buckled forward and his teeth latched onto his neck. Completely emptying himself inside of the tiny man, Grey layed down on his back next to the strung out Disguiser.

He brushed his hair between his fingers, licking his lips and smiling.

He felt completely exhausted, but completely fulfilled. Looking over at the limp body of Amauri, turned away from him, he pulled himself over to him and wrapped his arms around him. His lips kissing the skin between the back of his ear and neck, cuddling into his neck.

“I’m glad I have you.”

“T...Thank you. For making me feel like I'm worth something. I just…” he can't help turning around, pressing his face into the other's chest with a weak smile. “Guess I owe you. But… fuck. I love you… I really fucking love you.”

****  
  



End file.
